At the summit of Stone Ridge Mountain, beside the edge of the rift.
Chu Qing stood there barefoot. The Dark Gold Dragon Pattern beneath the soles of his feet pulsed bright and dim with each breath he took, and every beat made the crystalline rock underfoot give a faint crack, the sound of something unable to withstand the crushing weight.
Chu Qing's voice was hoarse, as if it had been scraped over a whetstone. "Division of labor. Nangong, watch the karmic lines. Whoever touches our karma, cut them down directly. Madam Shi, take your hundred and eight thousand Gods and Devils and guard the Grindstone. Anyone who dares come to seize production capacity—grind them all into powder. Madam Jin, don't let the furnace fire go out. Before the great calamity closes its doors, I'm going to refine all this trash into my bones."
Madam Jin folded both hands before her abdomen, her fingertips trembling slightly, yet she nodded heavily. "Rest assured, my lord."
Chu Qing then looked toward the still-shaking Heavenly Slave at the side, whose face was deathly pale.
"When I drag that 'main house' of yours back, you'll take her and assume control of all the heavenly secret shielding here."
Heavenly Slave's knees went weak. With a thud, she knelt on the ground, her forehead striking the stone slab with a muffled impact, yet she did not even dare gasp for breath.
"Let's go."
Chu Qing did not look at their reactions. His figure turned into a streak of Purple Gold lightning, and without the slightest hesitation, he slammed straight into the spatial loophole that had been locked onto.
The originally calm space was like a sheet of old paper violently torn open. A piercing shattering sound exploded against his eardrums.
Chu Qing felt a stinging pain spread